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<title>Lunch Break by sunlightdances (glowinghorizons)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24180280">Lunch Break</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/pseuds/sunlightdances'>sunlightdances (glowinghorizons)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:16:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24180280</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/pseuds/sunlightdances</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>My prompt was: "Steve distracting the Reader when they’re feeling down”. I was also specifically asked to “please let the reader roast him for his bullshit disguises”.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lunch Break</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don’t own Marvel or Steve Rogers. The plot is mine (with help from the prompt). Please don’t repost my work on any other sites (Wattpad, AO3, etc.) without my permission!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time you meet is perfectly normal.</p><p>Well, as normal as it can be to meet a super soldier in the middle of a department store.</p><p>You’re halfway through folding and shelving a bunch of t-shirts when you see him, looking overwhelmed in the middle of the men’s department. You almost laugh out loud - it’s usually older men or men in the women’s section that you see looking like this, but the despair on this man’s face is clear, even from a few feet away.</p><p>“Can I help you find something?” You ask, and when he looks up, even with the brim of his hat pulled low over his eyes, you recognize him immediately. “Oh, sorry, I–”</p><p>He looks a little flustered, a little sheepish. “No, it’s okay.”</p><p>“I’ll leave if there’s something going on–”</p><p>He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nothing to worry about. Just doing some shopping. Or, trying to…” He scratches the back of his neck. “Turns out there’s a ton of options and I have no idea what I’m doing.”</p><p>“I can help, unless you want–”</p><p>He interrupts you again, “Oh, please. I’ll be here for years otherwise.” A beat, and then he extends his hand. “I’m Steve.”</p><p>The next few months pass in a blur, as you try to get used to the fact that <em>Captain America</em> is one of your friends. Since that day when you helped him update his wardrobe, he visits occasionally, taking you for lunch or walking you home.</p><p>On a Tuesday, you wake up completely on the wrong side of the bed. You’re cranky, and your friends aren’t returning your texts, and you just feel <em>sad</em>. You go to work anyway, instead of calling off like you want to.</p><p>The first few hours of your shift are full of unhappy customers and you find yourself trying to hide out in the storeroom whenever you get the opportunity so you don’t have to talk to anyone.</p><p>Around lunchtime, there’s a slight buzz in the air in the store, and that’s how you know he’s here, bless his heart. You see him out of the corner of your eye - ball cap tugged low, <em>glasses</em> – you can’t get over it. Does he really think this is hiding his identity?</p><p>He leans against the counter, a little color high on his cheeks, and you arch your eyebrow.</p><p>“Captain Mystery, to what do I owe the pleasure?”</p><p>He rolls his eyes, chuckling. “I think I’ve been spotted.”</p><p>You snort. “No shit.”</p><p>“Got time for a lunch break?” He asks, and you nod, telling him your break is in ten minutes.</p><p>“While you’re waiting, please, <em>please</em> consider a hoodie. Or something that can hide your face better.” He looks offended. “These disguises are just not cutting it.”</p><p>He looks mildly offended, but then there’s a small child tugging on his pant leg, asking for a picture in front of an embarrassed mother, and you give him a look that says, <em>see?</em></p><p>“Okay, maybe you’re right.”</p><p>You meet him at the employee entrance after a few minutes, and he gestures for you to walk next to him as you go down the street to a sandwich place you both like. Inside, he refuses to let you pay for your own lunch and sits down across from you.</p><p>His brows are drawn together in concern. “Are you okay?”</p><p>It’s the gentle tone of his voice that does it; you burst into tears. You spare a half second to think that you should be embarrassed - but it doesn’t matter when Steve doesn’t hesitate, he comes around the table and tucks you under his arm, his grip firm, just what you need when you feel like you’re falling apart.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I shouldn’t have asked.”</p><p>You calm down enough to catch your breath, and are relieved when you look around and don’t see anyone being too obvious about watching you. “Don’t apologize, I’m the one having a breakdown in the middle of the cafe.”</p><p>He smiles, “Come on, let’s go for a walk before you have to go back to work.”</p><p>He sticks close to you, and to his credit, he waits a few minutes before asking. “What’s going on?”</p><p>You shrug, sighing. “I don’t know. Just– bad day, I guess.” You frown. “I just woke up feeling sad. Haven’t been able to shake it.”</p><p>“What can I do?” He asks, and he’s so genuine, it makes you want to cry all over again. What did you ever do to get a guy like him to be in your life?</p><p>You shrug, staving off a few extra tears that want to slip out. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”</p><p>Steve grabs your hand, tugging you to the side of the sidewalk, out of the way of the New York crowds. “Hey, listen.” He bends his knees a little bit so he can meet your eyes. “You helped me out that first time in the store when you didn’t have to. Let me help you now.”</p><p>You roll your eyes fondly, “It’s not the same thing; I was doing my job.”</p><p>Steve’s already shaking his head before you even finish your sentence. “You make me feel normal every day.” That gentle smile is back. “We’re friends, right?”</p><p>“Of course we are. Don’t be stupid.”</p><p>He laughs. “Well, then let me be a friend. Let me help you.”</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>Back at the store, Steve gives your manager his best Captain America voice as he tells her an absolutely <em>bullshit </em>story about how he needs you for something top secret, and it’s all you can do to keep a straight face.</p><p>Playing hooky from work with Steve Rogers? Turns out it’s the best cure for a bad mood and a bad day.</p><p>The two of you go to your favorite bakery, and head back to the Tower. It’s the first time you’ve been here, and you try not to gawk at every high tech thing you see as soon as you step through the front doors.</p><p>Steve’s quiet, but you can see how comfortable he is here. You wonder if it was always like that, or if he too had a period of time where he was constantly surprised turning around every corner.</p><p>His quarters are bigger than your entire apartment. He smiles sheepishly when you tell him that, but you’re too busy admiring the view to notice. The west wall is entirely windows. The sun streams in, giving the place a light and airy feel.</p><p>Everything is dark wood and navy, and there’s several black and white photos framed on the wall next to the front door. You instantly feel comfortable and more at ease than you have all day.</p><p>When you turn back to him, he’s watching you carefully, as if he thinks you’re going to bolt. It occurs to you that he might not bring many people back here.</p><p>“I like your place,” you say quietly, and he smiles, shrugging.</p><p>“It’s not Brooklyn, but it’s home.”</p><p>“Thanks for bringing me here.”</p><p>“You seemed like you needed a distraction.” He says, gesturing for you to follow him to the kitchen, where he offers you something to drink.</p><p>You spend the next few hours chatting about anything and everything, and you begin to realize you haven’t thought about your bad day since Steve brought you here. A wave of affection rolls over you as you take him in, his strong profile and the way he’s gesturing with his hands as he tells you a story.</p><p>“What?” He asks, stopping in the middle of his sentence.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You just looked– I don’t know. You looked like you wanted to say something.” His voice is quiet, a little insecure.</p><p>“I’m just really glad we’re friends, Steve Rogers.”</p><p>A slow, blinding smile stretches across his face. “I am, too.”</p>
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